Remorse
by Deandra
Summary: Eomer realizes his behavior is affecting his son. ONESHOT. Part 79 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 79 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Not sure where this came from, but I think maybe I was thinking about earlier stories where Eomer got angry and Elfwine was hesitant to be near him.**_

**Remorse**

**(Mar, 7 IV)**

With trepidation, Elfwine approached his father, who was seated on the front steps of Meduseld, staring off into the distance. "You...you wanted to see me, Papa?" Earlier, he had gotten into some mischief and his father had chastized him rather loudly. The boy had counted himself fortunate that his punishment had not been very severe, but now to be summoned by Papa seemed to indicate the matter was not yet settled.

During his tirade that morning, Eomer had seen Elfwine jump, and then cringe away from the verbal assault. He did not consider himself a violent or irrational man, but often in his life, particularly as Third Marshal and sometimes still, it was necessary to physically intimidate others with words and presence. He had been very good at it, his size alone a plus for that, but it troubled him that it might be having such an effect on his son. "Yes," Eomer murmured softly, not turning to look at the boy. "Sit down."

The small five-year-old huddled beside his father, but sitting well apart from him. It was evident that he was struggling to hold back tears. Unable to restrain his emotions, he blurted out, "I am sorry, Papa! I did not mean to be naughty and make you angry!" Tears trickled down his pale cheeks, despite his attempts to keep them in check.

Jolted from his contemplation by the boy's outburst, Eomer turned grieving, dismayed eyes on his son. His voice breaking ever so slightly, he asked, "Elfwine, are you afraid of me?"

The child trembled at the question, fearful of what an answer might cause to happen. Reaching a hand toward him, Eomer stopped abruptly when he saw Elfwine flinch. Sucking in a tight breath, he slowly withdrew his hand. Softly he asked more persistently, "Are you afraid I will strike you, son?"

Hugging his knees tightly, the boy reluctantly answered, "I saw you..." With a sniffle, his voice choked off and he didn't finish his sentence.

"Saw me what?" Eomer encouraged gently, desperately.

Wiping fiercely at his eyes and trying his best to be brave, Elfwine forced himself to say, "Break a chair. When you were mad."

For a moment, Eomer could not imagine what the child was speaking of, and then he recalled more than a sennight past – he had spent a disagreeable session with his council, some of whom he had concluded were doddering old fools that very much needed to retire. He had stormed from the meeting to the solitude of his study, but Lothiriel had spotted him charging across the Golden Hall and pursued. Apparently, so had Elfwine, though Eomer had not realized the boy was there. As he raged about his study, while Lothiriel stood calmly near the door letting his anger play out, he had picked up a chair in frustration and smashed it on the floor.

Lothiriel had simply watched him, then asked quietly if he was finished with his tantrum. Almost instantly, the fire had gone out of him, and she had moved to soothe and calm him. They spent the next hour talking things out, and letting him ease his aggravation in a much more rational manner. Somewhere in there, Elfwine had seen him smash the chair and then disappeared, frightened by the violent act.

Wearily rubbing his hands over his face, Eomer shook his head in dismay. How had it come to this – his son terrified he would be struck whenever Eomer got angry with him?

He turned to the miserable lad again and slowly held out his hand, palm up, toward him and, after several minutes, Elfwine placed his tiny hand into it. Ever so gently, Eomer tugged and encouraged him to come closer, until the boy was sitting in his lap, wrapped in his arms. Fighting for control of his emotions, he said raggedly, "Elfwine, I want you to know I would never strike you. No matter how angry I am, I would never lay a hand on you." He kissed the boy's head, holding him closer, "I love you, son. Sometimes I let my anger get the better of me, and I should not smash chairs when I do, but I promise you – I will NEVER strike you. Nothing you can do will bring me to that. I may be disappointed with something you have done, but I will leave it to your mother to punish you physically if such is needed. I will not lay a hand on you in anger."

There was silence for a long time until finally Elfwine turned to peer into his father's eyes. At length he said, "I do not want you to be disappointed with me, Papa. I will try harder to be a good boy so you are not. And I promise not to be afraid of you anymore."

Flinging his arms around Eomer's neck, he hugged so tightly Eomer almost could not breathe, but there was nothing that would have made him push his son away. "Agreed," Eomer whispered fervently.

THE END

5-3-06

**_End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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